


The Luxury of Sleep

by orderlychaos



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Clint can be annoying, Fluff, Humour, M/M, Sleepy Phil, So can Nick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-15
Updated: 2013-06-15
Packaged: 2017-12-15 01:18:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/843639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orderlychaos/pseuds/orderlychaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a long mission, Phil just wants to sleep - which naturally means Clint is around to annoy him.  Thankfully Nick is also around to do something about that.</p>
<p>Even if it's Nick's fault about his current choice of underwear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Luxury of Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> This is only my second attempt at Nick/Phil and my first one posted to AO3, so apologies if anyone is too horribly out of character :)

Phil Coulson groaned when he heard someone knocking loudly on the door to his quarters on the Helicarrier.  He was exhausted, he’d just come off the mission from hell and somehow, he’d actually manage to wrangle an afternoon off.  As far as he was concerned, whoever it was could just _go away_.

“You know, I like the style of interior decorating you’ve got going on here.  It’s very… spacious.”

With another groan, Phil realised that he either hadn’t locked his door or Clint had picked the lock again.  It was probably the latter, because really, Phil wouldn’t put it past his asset.  Burying his head underneath the pillow, Phil wondered if he could order Clint back to the range or something.  Really, he was fine if Barton was anywhere other than here.  “Go bother your irritable Russian partner, Hawkeye, and leave the rest of us to get some sleep,” he mumbled, his head still firmly underneath the pillow.

The mattress depressed as Clint sat down.  “I can’t,” Clint replied.  “She’s off somewhere shooting things.  Possibly Stark, but since that man is so annoying, I didn’t think it was a loss.”

Lifting his head out from the pillows, Phil glared at the blurry shape of his friend and asset.  “Go away, Clint.”

“Nope, sorry, Phil.  I can’t do that.  You and I have a date.”

Phil frowned in confusion.  “What are you talking about?” he growled.

“You, me, the range… those idiot junior agents who were talking shit about you the other day.  Ringing any bells?  We’re supposed to be in the gym beating the literal pants off them right now.  So come on, get up,” Clint said.  “Although, why we all couldn’t just have a civilised archery competition is beyond me.”

“The range... idiot junior agents... Clint, what the hell are you talking about?” Phil said.

“Don’t tell me you’ve finally given in to old age and forgotten?” Clint asked, wide-eyed with feigned innocence.

“It’s more a case of the fact that he got in four hours ago from places I’m not telling you about and was trying to sleep before you interrupted him,” a familiar voice announced from the direction of what Phil was fairly certain was the bathroom.

Phil felt a soft smile curving his face at Nick Fury’s voice.  With Nick, he could never quite be certain whether or not Nick had just had a shower or somehow shimmied in through a wall or something using a combination of natural stealth and the skills he’d picked up in the Rangers and honed in the years since; skills that Phil had never once come close to replicating, despite the many years they’d known each other.  Opening eyes he hadn’t even realised he’d shut, Phil looked over in the direction of the bathroom and found Nick lounging the bathroom doorway wearing nothing but his eyepatch and a rather small towel.  Phil took a moment to appreciate the lean, well-muscled body on display, before he turned his head to glance at Clint – who was staring at Nick with wide eyes and a faintly horrified expression.  Phil wasn’t sure if he should be amused, or offended on Nick’s behalf.

“Not to mention that I had plans for him this afternoon that don’t include clothes or mouthy assets dragging Phil out of this room,” Nick added.

Clint was silent at that.  Phil just hummed in amusement, closed his eyes and buried his face back in the pillow again.

“I’m… just going to go,” Clint finally stuttered.

“You do that,” Nick said and Phil didn’t need to open his eyes to know Nick was grinning as Clint beat a hasty retreat.

“Do I want to know what just happened?” Phil asked, his eyes still firmly closed.

He heard Nick walking almost silently over to him, before the mattress beneath him dipped slightly and Nick pressed a warm kiss to Phil’s lips.  Rolling over, Phil slipped a hand around the back of Nick’s neck before he could pull away too far and dragged him back for a longer and far less chaste kiss.  Nick grinned when he pulled back a second time as Phil blinked sleepily up at him.

“I just saved you from having Barton find out you fell asleep in Hawkeye underwear, Phil,” he said a wink.  “Now be a good boy and go back to sleep.”

“Wait, what?” Phil said, suddenly a little more awake.  “I don’t _own_ Hawkeye underwear.”

“You do now,” Nick smirked.

Phil narrowed his eyes in response.  Just to prove a point, he also reached out to yank the towel from Nick’s waist, before rolling over and burying his grin under the pillow again.  It took Nick about five seconds to yank the blankets off Phil’s exhausted body in retaliation.  Phil muttered something not even he could translate into the pillow, but he was pretty certain it wasn’t flattering.  “You know, next time I can just let Barton find out you’re wearing Hawkeye underwear,” Nick teased.

“You were the one that put them on me, asshole,” Phil muttered back.  “Since as I previously stated, I _don’t own_ Hawkeye underwear.”

Phil shivered a little at the lack of blankets, his hand half-heartedly groping around the bed in an attempt to find them.  Nick chuckled from somewhere nearby and Phil felt the mattress dip again, this time as Nick joined him and tugged the blankets up around them both.  Phil hummed contentedly as he felt Nick’s familiar weight curling around him, Nick’s arm reaching out to pull Phil back against his chest and rest heavily on his waist.  Nick’s palm curved up to rest on Phil’s heart, his fingers splayed over the ugly scar on Phil’s chest as they always did since Phil’s most recent and serious brush with death.  “Sleep, Phil,” Nick said softly in his ear.

“Only if you stay,” Phil replied, snuggling closer to the warmth and comfort Nick always offered.

“Always,” Nick said.


End file.
